


Billdip/Mabifica Tumblr prompts

by Jinxedmagic



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst, Bill is however old you want him to be, Coffee Shops, Coming Out, Dipper will usually be around drinking age, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Homophobia, Just look out for evil triangle, Kid!bill sometimes, M/M, Rating May Change, Warnings May Change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-06 23:57:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4241556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jinxedmagic/pseuds/Jinxedmagic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles that I have written in response to prompts received on my Tumblr, Jinxedmagic</p>
            </blockquote>





	Billdip/Mabifica Tumblr prompts

**Author's Note:**

> Anon asked for a coffee shop AU. Both characters are aged up in this drabble

It was almost calming, listening to the steady chatter of the patrons' conversations. Music spouted softly from the speakers lining the ceiling, but Dipper couldn't hear which song over the customers' voices. A gushy, vanilla acoustic as far as Dipper could tell. Nonetheless, he could just barely make out the thumping beat of the song and softy swung his hips alongside it.  
His calloused fingers passed almost serenely over the smooth metal of the cappuccino machine while his other hand reached for a hot cup. His hips stilled as the song faded out, only to pick up again along with his voice when he recognized the sugary pop song that began playing next. In all honesty, he had begun to enjoy the annoyingly upbeat music over the years with the help of his twin sister, Mabel.  
After assisting Dipper in launching his own business, Mabel had moved back in with their parents down in Piedmont in order to pursue her passion for digital design through an online course. It was thanks to her that Dipper now ran his own small coffee shop in the town of Gravity Falls, Oregon. He had decided to honor his great uncle Stan in an almost ironic manner by naming the brewery after the small tourist trap his Grunkle used to own; The Mystery Shack. While admittedly uncreative and a bit predictable, Dipper felt the name gave his little shop the last bit of charm it required.  
And of course Dipper missed his twin; her loud obnoxious singing, her inexcusable and completely shocking tendency to viciously snore at night, the sound of sewing machines constantly buzzing in the background and the little snort that sometimes escaped when she was genuinely overjoyed...but most of all, Dipper missed the glitter. In the moment, Dipper passionately swore against her excessive use of glitter on anything and everything she could get her hands on. But now that he's had the time to clean the sparkly substance from the walls and furniture, he realized that there was something missing. Sure, it was annoying, and glitter in the eye was never pleasant, but Dipper soon realized that glitter meant that his sister was with him, and that she would always be nearby. Now there was no reminder, no memories, nothing. He still called his sister daily and occasionally Skyped her (given neither one of the Pines was busy, which was a rare occasion indeed), but he still wished there was more time to be spent in person.  
It wasn't until the repetitive ringing of the service bell buried itself into his head that Dipper realized he had gotten lost in his thoughts again. He quickly reached over and pulled the handle on the cappuccino machine toward him to shut it off and placed a hot lid over the rim of the cup.  
Soon, the bell rang faster as the customer grew impatient. Dipper grumbled, annoyed by the customer's blatant rudeness. He took a towel and wiped around the edges of the cup to clean away any traces of spilled coffee. The ringing grew even faster and Dipper began to lose his temper. He threw the towel down angrily and whipped around to face the rude customer, cappuccino in hand. He had full intent to mouth this customer off, but as soon as his eyes fell on the man's face, he knew he was in trouble.  
The man, he looked to be around 25, sported what Dipper assumed was supposed to be some sort of hipster haircut; perfectly styled, savory golden bangs swooped gracefully just above his right eye, the rest of his hair shorter and less elegant, black in color. His skin was a light tan, his right eye covered by a triangle-shaped eyepatch of sorts. He wore a classy white button-down, tucked neatly into black dress pants.  
His eyes met Dipper's, and his lips stretched into an enticing grin. He leaned forward on the counter, chin resting on his palm as he stared vaguely impatiently at Dipper.  
Shit.  
Dipper felt his face heat up as he looked at the man, frozen in place. He couldn't have stopped the accident if he'd tried.  
The cup slipped from his grasp and fell unceremoniously to the tile floor beneath him, separating from its haphazardly placed lid and splattering everywhere. He hissed in pain as the steaming liquid covered his calves, cursing under his breath and skipping away.  
Whatever heat he felt rushed from his calf to this cheeks as he realized the customer was chuckling. Not just chuckling, laughing hysterically. At Dipper. 

That ASSHOLE. Was he freaking serious? He scowled at the man as he grabbed a rag from the counter behind him and dropped it over the puddle to be cleaned later. He dropped down to examine his scalding shin. There didn't seem to be any major damage from what Dipper could tell, just a few minor burns that needed to be put under some cold water. He was just about to make his way to the sink when he heard the service bell ring once more.  
Enraged, he spun around to face the incredibly rude customer. The man still had his chin rested on his elbow, his seemingly endless grin still breaking his face. He almost seemed to snigger as Dipper stomped over to the service counter, fists clenched at his sides and a look of dismay plastered across his features.  
As soon as he reached the counter, Dipper let the scowl stretch into an obviously false smile as he spoke in a cheery tone: "And how may I serve you today, sir?"  
This only served to make the man's grin grow impossibly wider, his unsettlingly sharp canines glinting in the dim light of the coffee shop. "Well, since you've been such a polite barista, I think I'll go easy on ya." Dipper flinched at the customer's choice of words. What the hell did that even mean? Go easy? The man lifted his chin and stood up straight for the first time since Dipper had met him. "Are you paying attention, Pretty Boy? I'm only going to say this once."  
Dipper glowered at the nick name, but hesitantly nodded in response. How difficult could an order be anyway? He knew he would regret that thought as soon as he saw the man take the largest gulp of breath he'd ever seen.  
"I'll take a venti, half-whole milk, one quarter one percent, one quarter non-fat, extra hot, split quad shots, no foam latte, with whip, two packets of Splenda, one sugar in the raw, a touch of vanilla syrup and three short sprinkles of cinnamon."  
Dipper blinked owlishly at the order. He could feel his jaw falling agape and had to snap it shut before he made a fool of himself (or an even bigger on seeing as he'd already screwed up in the biggest way possible). He raised his index finger and opened his mouth in silent question, but his words were cut off by the distinct chuckling of the man before him. "Well? Chop chop, Pine Tree!" The man hollered in reference to his cap he had grown so fond of. Great. Yet another nickname to despise.  
Dipper lowered his arm, but his head still tilted to the left in confusion. "Can-can you repeat that...please?"  
"Nope!"  
"Wha-"  
"I told you I was only going to say it once! Now hurry up, kid, or you may just lose my generous patronage," The man threatened, cheery as ever.  
Dipper grumbled something under his breath about not needing his patronage, but turned back and began making his drink anyways. What had the creep wanted? Vinte half-percent? No, that didn't even make sense. What even was half-whole milk? Maybe he wanted the drink to be half-whole? Dipper angrily tried to recall the order as he frantically prepared the drink.  
After several minutes of cussing the coffee machine out under his breath and fumbling haphazardly over controls that suddenly seemed like a labyrinth of confusion (seriously, who even made these things?), Dipper finally had something that vaguely resembled the drink that the customer had ordered. With tired eyes, he passed the warm cup to the man.  
"Here's your vinte half-whole blah blah blah," He ground out. The blonde grabbed the drink with a wide smile, parting his lips to finally take a sip.  
Dipper knew it was irrational, but he could feel his cheeks heating up as he saw the other man's lips locking with the vent of the lid. While he was an asshole, Dipper had to admit that he was attractive, in his own abstract way. But before his daydreams could carry him any farther away, they were shattered by the sight of the man spitting the liquid out onto the counter.  
Dipper jumped back in surprise, snapping his head up to make a face at the customer. "What the hell-"  
"This isn't what I ordered at all!"

"...It isn't?"

"Of course not!" The man sputtered out, his tone seeming almost offended. "You made the entire drink half-whole, I asked for half-whole milk!"  
"WHAT THE HELL EVEN IS HALF-WHOLE MILK?!" The man 'hmpf'd in disgust, his nose turning up.  
"I knew I should've gone to my usual place."  
"Yeah, well, maybe you should have."  
The customer scoffed before allowing the smile to creep back up his face. He reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like notebook paper and a pen and scribbled something down. When he was finished writing, he set the paper on the counter in front of Dipper. "In case you learn how to make some actually good coffee," He said before turning around and exiting the coffee shop with a confident stride. Dipper picked up the paper, examining what was written on it.  
'Bill' That must've been his name. '555-2308' Dipper blushed, realizing that the man had been flirting with him. Oh god, how had he not seen that coming? He was about to shove the paper in his pocket when he saw something written in the corner. 'Look on back' He did so, flipping the paper around and almost chuckling to himself as he saw what was written there. 'venti, half-whole milk, one quarter one percent, one quarter non-fat, extra hot, split quad shots, no foam latte, with whip, two packets of Splenda, one sugar in the raw, a touch of vanilla syrup and three short sprinkles of cinnamon. Be ready.' He gave a small smile, eyes crinkling around the corners as he shoved the paper in his back pocket.  
That experience may have been completely humiliating and aggravating, but at least Dipper had gotten a number and some cash from the whole thing-  
Wait.  
Did he-?  
Dipper groaned in frustration, his palm running lazily over his face.

That bastard hadn't paid him.


End file.
